Good and Evil Braided Be
by Randirwen
Summary: The Shadow of evil grows ever darker in the forest of Mirkwood as fear spreads even into the Elvenking's halls. A lone few rise up to face this new threat knowing the risk to their lives. For, though heroes always get remembered, legends never die. Rated M for Mature Themes and Violence.
1. Darkness Descends

Hello everyone! I know, I know - it's been a year since I posted my last story on here thinking that it would turn into a multi-chapter fic. Well, unfortunately after struggling with those characters and trying to make the story work I came to the conclusion that 'Beneath the Trees' was going to be a 'stand alone' work. HOWEVER, I have a new story to give you. It's a work in progress, but I wanted to at least get something out there.

Initially this started because I read "Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth" and was completely blown away by the story of Aegnor and Andreth - and it's tragic ending, in my opinion. Being unsatisfied and with plenty of "what if…" plot scenarios running through my head, I have set out to write a piece for you that does not keep to that particular cannon. So, what if Aegnor had decided to love Andreth - in every way - before departing to play his part in the Battle of Sudden Flame? How would history change?

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 **Disclaimer:** I do not claim ownership to any works of the Tolkien Enterprise, New Line Cinema, or Sir Peter Jackson. Original characters (OCs) that are found in this work are asked to respectfully be used only with the author's permission. Reference websites used for translation and literary references will be listed at the end of chapters when necessary.

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 _ **"His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom."**_

 _ **J.R.R. Tolkien**_

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Mirkwood, 2954 Third Age

The Elvenking Thranduil was the only person within the high-ceilinged council room, his tall and imposing figure standing before several detailed maps and reports that lay strewn upon the long table. It was well past the midnight hour and he had dismissed his advisors and the captains of the Woodland Guard. Many of the candles had burned themselves out, leaving the room of pale grey stone to be bathed in a deep golden glow from the amber lamps placed on the walls and hung from the ceiling. The son of Oropher sighed and allowed himself to massage the annoying ache growing in his temple, knowing full well it would not subside so easily. These meetings were becoming all too frequent; the particular nature of the incidents they had been deliberating on left the king feeling weary. His very fёa felt heavy with grief and worry. The Elvenking Thranduil was not one to let emotion interfere with his duty.

Grey-blue eyes known for their piercing glares and unyielding stares now gazed wearily at the foremost map that was bedecked with wooden markers painted red and blue. There were ten in all, each representing a single ellon or elleth that had been taken captive by some servants of the enemy over the past three years. The eight red markers were those elves they had found; all eight had been found dead. It was the manner of death coupled with the growing number of elves being waylaid that disturbed Thranduil the most. For the bodies of the elves they discovered showed no obvious signs of having been beaten, tortured, or brutalized. They had, however, all been killed in the same way: each had their throats slit in one deep, clean cut. The crime was so vile it made Thranduil's stomach churn and his blood boil to know such an atrocity was being occurring within his realm.

For all his attempts to protect his kin - more guards on patrols, set watches on all travelled roads and paths, escorts to and from Esgaroth - _still_ these foul creatures managed to find the most vulnerable and attack quickly, taking their quarry with no trace left behind for the elves to follow.

When the most recent elleth had been declared lost to the enemy, Thranduil swallowed his pride and ego and wrote to both Lord Elrond and the Lady Galadriel for insight and counsel on his dire situation. Elrond offered strategic advice, but had no answer as to what was behind the cause of his disappearing kin:

" _The attacks you have described to me are far too coordinated and concise to be the work of orcs or goblins. I fear some darker purpose lies behind them and perhaps a darker and more ruthless enemy."_

The Lady Galadriel's reply in and of itself was no more helpful in Thranduil's eyes. She said nothing about who, or what, was responsible - or if she even knew. However, the Lady did give him some hope in the midst of the turmoil the Shadow sought to consume him with in her words:

" _While I cannot leave my realm to come and aid you, I will send another in my stead. She is my kin and dear to my heart, and I would not send her on such an errand if I did not think her capable. This darkness that spreads from the East is familiar to us, as well as her. I will caution you not to question or pass judgment on her methods which may seem foreign and perhaps even untrustworthy to you who has not seen their like before. She has spent the past several hundred years abroad studying in Rhûn while gathering allies to our cause. I would ask for your patience as she readjusts to living in a court setting among her kin. At present, she is at your western border dealing with a dispute among the Woodmen and should arrive with her company within a fortnight of your receiving this message."_

Since receiving the correspondence from the Lady Galadriel, the Elvenking had been pondering which elleth could possibly be capable of taking on such a complex situation. As one of the last remaining descendants of the House of Finwë, with her father and brothers all slain long ago fighting the darkness of Melkor and her daughter Celebrían having departed across the Sea to Valinor, the Lady Arwen was the only elleth that came to mind of that bloodline. While the daughter of Elrond was more than capable of holding her own against an enemy, she was more docile and had a preference for dwelling in the peace of Imladris while learning of the world from her father's renowned library and visiting guests. She had a kind heart and a sharp mind, but did not venture out to stave off the darkness that was spreading across Middle-Earth.

"Who?" Thranduil questioned aloud. "Who would willingly spend hundreds of years in Rhȗn among the Harad and Easterlings? Spend their days out in the wild when they are a descendant of the royal Ñoldor House of Finwë - when they should be in the court of their Lady…" Thranduil trailed off.

A memory floated to the surface of his mind of a time several millenia in the past. When he dwelt still in Eregion with his beloved wife, and a young Legolas. The Lady Galadriel, still known by many as Artanis, stood tall and fair clad in ivory silk with her long hair glowing like the sun itself.

Beside her stood an elleth and an ellon - twins. Both with hair of gold and profound eyes of a deep brown. The ellon had the hint of a grin on his thin lips, his high forehead wrinkled with amusement. His golden-blonde hair was almost wild in appearance. It was a stark contrast to the elleth whose locks had barely a wave, though hers shone with an array of color found in a king's hoard of golden treasures. Though he stood half a head taller than the elleth beside him, the two held themselves with a refined grace. The ellon had broad shoulders and a narrow waist; the definition in his arms belied his consistent training with the sword and bow. The elleth's raiment was of deep gold and crimson red. The simple girdle she wore settled on hips that were not typical of elleth; they had a noticeable, gentle curve. More striking than her garb was her smile, for it was warm and genuine. It set even the son of Oropher at ease.

And so he recalled his first meeting with the son and daughter of Prince Aegnor of House Finwë and the Lady Andreth of House Bëor - the Ñoldor elf prince and the mortal Wise-woman. The first half-elven children born in Middle-Earth: Baramdir and Ruivoreth.

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 **TRANSLATIONS**

Baramdir - Mother-name, meaning "fiery, eager hope." Name derived from the use of the meaning behind Aegnor's mother name of ("Fell Fire") and Lady Andreth's belief in _amdir_ ("hope based on reason"). Lady Andreth's conversation with Finrod touches on the subject of _amdir_ versus _estel_ ("hope, trust").

Ruivoreth - After-name (ёpesse), meaning "inner mind of wildfire".

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	2. It Has Begun

**Disclaimer:** I do not claim ownership to any works of the Tolkien Enterprise, New Line Cinema, or Sir Peter Jackson. References have been used from the Assassin's Creed Franchise and this author claims no ownership of any such works. Original characters (OCs) that are found in this work are asked to respectfully be used only with the author's permission. Reference websites used for translation and literary references will be listed at the end of chapters when necessary. Song lyrics used are owned by their respective artists.

" _ **We will face the odds against us**_

 _ **And run into the fear we run from. It has begun."**_

 _ **\- Starset**_

The two figures clad in forest green robes, black leggings, and tall boots of dark leather leaned casually against one of the wooden posts that held the roof over an outdoor vendor's wares. The merchant had a few swords, various knives and daggers, and even a small array of armour. He thought their prolonged stay was simply due to their inability to make up their minds. After all, the two were well-armed from what he could see: both had short swords hanging from thick brown leather belts beneath which both had tied red sashes. While one carried a pair of long knives on their back, the other had a short bow. Neither of the two wore steel armour, but spaulders of the same leather covered their shoulders, corset-like vests over their abdomens that had small throwing knives sheathed within, as well as vambraces around their forearms that looked unique in form.

If the vendor had been paying less attention to what the two carried and more attention to where their heads were turned he would have understood that they were not looking at his wares; they were staring across the busy center of the thriving village of Woodmen. Beneath hoods that obscured nearly all facial features, two pairs of eyes were trained on a single structure that was made of dull grey stone and wood with a thatch roof. At three stories high it was the tallest of all the buildings - and the grandest. Well, _grand_ in comparison to the small houses clustered around it.

"We've been here for nigh on three hours. People are starting to notice," said the bowman.

"We will wait three more if we must. There can be no room for error - we only get one chance to kill this vermin," the other ground out, crossing their arms.

A man and his wife walked past them, the two slowing to blatantly stare at the out-of-place visitors that caught their eyes. To break the tension the two green-clad figures nodded in deference to the couple which seemed to appease them, after which they carried on walking easily. The moment they were out of sight, the bowman sighed heavily, to which the partner whipped their head around.

"What ails you so? It is not typical of you to detest scouting this much."

"Perhaps I am worried about us being found out? Captured? Killed?" they answered with a clipped voice.

To the surprise of their companion, the foremost laughed quietly. "My dear Gelinnas, when have I ever allowed you - my second - to become a captive? Or even compromised?"

Gellinas pretended to tap her chin in mock thought. "Well, my dear Lady Ruivoreth, where should I start? There was the time in Rhûn with that rogue group of Wildmen that had moved east. They could smell the incense that had permeated into our clothes and discovered us."

Beneath her hood Ruivoreth's brow creased in mild irritation at the memory. "Very well, I will concede that you were _compromised_ once. But you have never been captured. As I recall getting out of that little scrap revealed a truly fierce side of you. You have grown as a warrior since then," Ruivoreth recalled with a wry smile.

"Yes," Gelinnas agreed with sincerity. "I believe so too. Especially seeing as I no longer get covered in blood during our _little scraps_."

Ruivoreth hid her laugh by pretending to adjust her hood. Indeed, it was a challenge to keep the robes free of blood stains when assassinations were part of your profession, alongside the extermination of all the spawn of evil the Shadow brought forth. Even more so when they wore the traditional white robes.

"Tell me again how we came to concern ourselves with this person?" Gelinnas spoke quietly, asking of their intended target while shifting her weight to her other foot. "I thought he was someone of high status? Reclusive and odd, but what has he done that deserves death?"

Gelinnas would have taken back her words immediately if she had been able to see Ruivoreth's face. The daughter of Aegnor's eyes had grown dark and piercing, her lips thin and pursed - as if to keep whatever thought was in her head from tumbling forth past her lips.

"Someone hasn't been paying attention," the elleth remarked to the other in a sing-song voice that dripped of sarcasm. "He has attempted murder and is a known rapist. The reason we have became involved is because he was seen taking bribes from an agent of the enemy. Since taking those bribes, young girls have gone missing. Four thus far."

"Perhaps he is keeping them captive?"

Ruivoreth shook her head. "No, he doesn't. The four that disappeared came and went in the night. I fear there is another party involved."

Gelinnas looked at her mentor strangely. "And how did you come by this information?"

The two straightened as a group of men made their way toward the house they watched. There was one man who was clearly of prominence by his clothing made of velvets and gold brocade. He walked like he owned the world around him, and the people were merely playthings for him to torment at his pleasure. He was tall and thin with dark greying hair. Ruivoreth wasn't concerned with his large nose, pointed chin, or even his dark green eyes that seemed void of life. It was the man's laugh that sent a chill up her spine. It was… sadistic. Amused. Entertained. And it set her on edge.

The rest appeared to be an escort of guards. Six guardsmen in all, two who remained at the door while the other four followed inside.

Ruivoreth cursed, fighting the urge to hit the post beside her. She had not anticipated this an entourage of guards. But, it was not out of the realm of possibility to still complete this self-assigned commission.

"You wanted to know where I acquired that information?" she asked Gelinnas, not turning away from where she looked at the house.

" _La_. How?" (Yes.)

"From a maid who threw herself from the second story window in order to escape his torture."

Gelinnas could not think of anything to say to the news. She was appalled and in disbelief to be sure, but the anger burning within her in anticipation to end the vermin Ruivoreth spoke of was at the forefront of her mind. This filth. This… "What is his name?"

"Lord DeSade," Ruivoreth spat, as if the very name were poison in her mouth. Her eyes were still narrowed upon the doorway to the tall structure.

Suddenly, she felt something poke her squarely in the back, and on reflex her hand snapped back and latched onto the person's wrist as she whirled around fully prepared to unleash the inferno that was her anger upon whoever dared touch her.

A man stood there - a human man - in robes similar to their own except his were in shades of brown. His face had dark stubble and he bore hair of the same color that was pulled back with a makeshift tie. His lips were quirked in a grin. "Ouch," he said a little emphatically, reminding Ruivoreth she still held his wrist which she immediately let go of. "Who pissed off mother bear, here?" he asked, rubbing his wrist as if he were hurt. His sea-green eyes danced with mirth.

"Candor, respect your Master, I shouldn't have to remind you," said an ellon robed in grey who had silently taken a spot on the opposite side of the post and was now leaning casually. White-blonde hair could be seen hanging freely around his face and falling out of the hood. His voice was low and he spoke with a cool voice that was kept devoid of emotion. The elf's age rivaled that of Ruivoreth's - his discipline even more so.

"Indeed," Ruivoreth huffed, staring the novice down. "You should know better than to attempt to _sneak up_ on an assassin. On a warrior. I could have killed you." She turned back around, then thought better of it and turned back to face him. Before another word was spoken her hand was raised and had whacked him across the top of his head, hard. " _Ci! U-hannas!_ " (Idiot! You have no intelligence!) she hissed at him with a pointed finger, as though she were scolding a bad pup. When she heard a stifled chuckle come from the ellon, Thalawest, she turned her glare on him. "And you, Thalawest. Keep your novice in line."

" _La, golodh_ ," (Yes, teacher/mentor) he answered smoothly, not even turning his head.

Ruivoreth again set her eyes back to the house where DeSade resided, settling back into her spot.

Gelinnas gave her a long look. "You just wanted to hit something, am I right?"

" _Dina_." (Be silent) Ruivoreth snapped, folding her arms once again.

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Night had fallen. The inky blackness crept over the village, covering it like paint to canvas; it seemed to cling and clutch at everything. No light shone from the moon. No stars sparked in the heavens above. It was as though nature itself sensed that a terrible thing was to happen here, and so all light vanished taking with it signs of life and any semblance of goodness that had dwelt there.

Ruivoreth despaired at this feeling that came upon her. She had felt it before when she was not yet a hundred years old, when Dorthonion was lost in the Battle of Sudden Flame. Though she resided with her Aunt Galadriel in Menegroth at the time it occurred, she felt it in her _fёa_ that the earth was unsteady for there was a great war between forces of darkness and those of light.

It had terrified her - to _feel_ so much and in such a profound way. The fear, pain, and anguish overwhelmed her and she had clung to her brother begging him to make it stop - to stop the visions of death and destruction, and what her kin must be feeling at that very moment as they defended against the enemy.

It was the Maia, Melian, wife to King Thingol, who rescued Ruivoreth from being driven mad by her own mind. Melian's very presence was soothing; her touch was that of a wise healer and a kind mother. And she sang Ruivoreth back into the waking world, warning her that to let such unchecked emotion take hold completely was to give up her free will. Ruivoreth desperately tried to heed her warning, but she was young and prone to impulse. She would stumble and fall a great many times before she learned the self-control Melian spoke of.

Even now, at 6,000 years of age, there were moments she almost let herself slip. Ruivoreth had a quick temper when she was confronted whether it be with words or actions. The art of "turn the other cheek" had always been a difficult concept for her to master… At one time, she had aspired to be just like her aunt - the great and beautiful Artanis, Galadriel, Lady of Light - who was both respected and revered for her wisdom and foresight. And so while she learned of the world at her side, she learned more of herself and what she believed she could do to help - what her purpose was.

It was at the end of the First Age when all the world had changed and news of the faraway realms of Khand and Rhûn reached her ears that she first felt the desire to discover their hidden mysteries for herself. Even after the cataclysmic events of the sinking of Beleriand and the War of Wrath, her heart longed for adventure. Yet she remained with her Lady for many, many years still. They dwelt in Eregion for a time and it was there that she met the future Queen of Mirkwood, Lady Idhrenel and her husband Prince Thranduil, son of King Oropher. Ruivoreth and Idhrenel became close friends during their long years spent in Eregion before Ruivoreth departed for Lorien with the Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, and her brother Armandur. Her heart had broken to be parted from her dear friends and their infant son Legolas. The elfling had a special place in her heart that would only come to grow as the years passed. Though she would only see him a handful of times over the next few thousand years, each meeting was always eagerly anticipated.

And each farewell more difficult than the last.

Ruivoreth, having spent the last several months in Mirkwood tracking the activities of the Woodmen, could not help but wish that she and her companions would be finished with this commission quickly so they would be able to continue on their way north to Thranduil's halls to address whatever darkness had been terrorizing his people. The sinister nature of what her Lady had described in her message made Ruivoreth wary of what they might encounter.

Ruivoreth's thoughts were broken by Candor who knelt at her side in the narrow alley between several houses. She glanced at him, taking in his torn robes that were ripped and revealed the sleeves of his under tunic that he'd rolled up past his elbows. His entire appearance was rather ragged looking and careworn, which she did not hesitate to make note of. "You look like a Corsair with your garb all torn up. Were you mauled by a Warg?"

Candor rolled his eyes heavenward. "Ha, ha, ha. Simply because my robes are not in pristine condition like you elves does not make me any less of an assassin. If anything, I blend in better looking the way I do."

Ruivoreth raised a brow in mild disbelief. "Was your nearly getting into a brawl at that last inn part of your "blending in"? Just because you look like a pirate doesn't mean you need act like one…"

The man gave her a droll look. "Are you going to lecture me all night or shall we get down to business?"

The elleth looked to the rooftops to see Thalawest leap and grab the bars of the iron railing that covered a second story window of DeSade's home before pulling himself over and crouching on the landing. At the same time, Gelinnas performed the technique in tandem on the opposite side, flipping over the bars and landing silently before the two began to scale the outer wall to the top.

Candor watched all this carefully before asking, "And the plan?"

"If all goes well, it will be rather simple. Thalawest and Gelinnas will breach the uppermost floor and work their way down in search of any hidden captives," Ruivoreth answered, straightening somewhat from her own low crouch as she subconsciously ran her hands down her sides to ensure all her blades were in place and secure.

"How will we go about entering?"

The lady could not help but smirk, the quirk in her lips visible even in the faint light as she looked to the novice. "As I said - the simplest way. Through the front door."

With that, she began to stalk forward, unsheathing a small throwing knife as the two reached the central fountain which had a low stone wall around it they used for cover. Candor read her intentions from her chosen weapon and readied one of his own. With a sharp nod from his mentor the two sprang from opposite sides of the fountain, keeping low as they sprinted toward the entrance while releasing their knives. The two guards standing at the door each crumpled to the ground as they suddenly found their throats impaled and unable to do anything save choke on their own blood.

Ruivoreth and Candor swept past them to the large double doors, stopping to quickly scan the square for any sign someone had noticed their actions. With no obvious movement anywhere, the two straightened, Ruivoreth saying, "DeSade is clever and dangerous. I believe there will be more guards than we anticipated. Therefore when we enter, go join Thalawest and Gelinnas in their search to ensure they are unhindered."

Candor merely nodded, knowing it was useless to argue despite his wish to remain at her side. He took his frustration out by kicking in the doors to the main hall, breaking the locking mechanism on the other side. Ruivoreth strode in first, checking her sides and corners to be sure there were no unwelcome surprises as Candor followed, again electing to shut the doors with the heel of his boot.

The room was long with several wooden columns that had banners hanging from steel rods which led up to a grand stone fireplace before which stood their target seemingly at ease with a flute of wine in hand. DeSade looked down the room at the commotion, a finely crafted dining table that gleamed with fresh polish and with enough room to seat more than a dozen was not the only obstacle that lay between the two warriors and their quarry. Five well-armed guards had begun advancing on the two as soon as they entered.

Ruivoreth looked sharply at Candor, then pointed to the winding staircase to their left uttering her single command, "Go."

The novice obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and ran up the stairs. Two guards made to race after him, but Ruivoreth intercepted them drawing her blade. She parried the first guard's advance, getting under his guard to grab hold of his neck and slam his head into the nearest pillar as she fended off the second with a well aimed kick to the groin. The first guard dropped his weapon in his stupor, falling to his knees, which Ruivoreth took quick advantage of by unsheathing the hidden blade from her vambrace and burying it in the man's neck for a quick death. She turned to the other who had nearly recovered from his injury and had become enraged over the embarrassment. He charged her, sword raised, and attempted to slash from shoulder to hip. Ruivoreth dodged by rolling under the swing, and swept the guard's feet out from under him. He landed hard, but still tried to strike her again from where he lay on his back. The sword glanced off her leather spaulder as she came down again with her hidden blade, killing the second guard in the same manner. Rising to her feet she surveyed the dimly lit room before her to see the remaining three looking enraged, but none dared take a step forward after the display they just witnessed.

DeSade however had set down his wine and was slowly clapping, as though he had just watched a performance he found particularly entertaining. "Well done! Oh, well done indeed."

Ruivoreth sheathed her blade back within the vambrace, slowly taking a few steps toward the malevolent man. "I am not here to amuse you or play your games DeSade," Ruivoreth seethed. "You are charged with murder, conspiracy to commit murder, rape, torture, and for having dealings with Sauron's agents. This night will be your last that you draw breath, but there can be some redemption for you if you reveal the whereabouts of the women you aided in kidnapping."

DeSade's smile became even more twisted and sinister as he laid his hands on the high-backed chair at the head of the table. "Those pretty little things? Oh, my dear girl, I believe you have much more serious problems at hand that you should be concerning yourself with." He reached for his wine again, taking a long, leisurely draught. "I was warned you may come for me, and I must tell you that even as we speak more of your kin are being taken deep into this very forest and slaughtered like defenseless sheep. So, why waste your time with me? And more besides, I have my own affairs to attend to - which you have interfered with more than enough for a lifetime. With that said, I would ever so kindly ask you to leave. Lest I must take drastic measures to ensure you do so." The dull green eyes of the perverse man narrowed on her.

The daughter of Aegnor and Andreth was undeterred, and her temper flared at the audacity of the man's words. "I will not leave this place until your disgusting body lies cold and dead before my eyes. I will go nowhere until the women you have wronged in such sick and sadistic ways have been avenged and justice served." Ruivoreth advanced forward toward the man, watching the other guards carefully.

With a burst of speed, Ruivoreth ran and leapt up to grab the pole a banner hung from, using her momentum to kick the guard squarely in the chest and send him falling back into his comrade. As she landed, she pulled another throwing knife from her side and hurled it at the man standing closest to DeSade, watching it hit him squarely in the chest and subsequently causing him to fall to the floor. Ruivoreth gave a hard kick to the face closest guard as the second scrambled backward, watching as the green-robed assassin raised her sword and brought it down squarely in the center of the man's head before continuing on up toward DeSade, dispatching the second with another throwing knife to the back of the skull as he attempted to flee.

Just before she reached DeSade, who had moved closer to the fire, he spoke again. "A most impressive display to be sure, but I am afraid I have no intention of dying today, no matter how skilled you are." His face twisted in a sneer, and his voice became low and almost conspiratorial. "Therefore, I shall give you some incentive to send you scurrying back to your Woodland friends."

Ruivoreth was about to retort when she heard movement from behind. Her reaction was not fast enough, as the guard who she had hit with a knife in the chest was not yet dead and had lunged for her legs, knocking her to the ground. Her head connected with the floor hard enough to cause her vision to blur, and then a burning pain began in her left shoulder. She managed to kick the guard off, then rolled after him and managed to straddle his waist, freeing the knife from his chest and deliver a swift cut to his throat. Blood poured forth, and even spattered the front of her robes as he choked on his last remaining breaths. Looking up, she saw DeSade holding an intricately wrought dagger that shone in the firelight with more than just her blood but also a clear oil-like substance that coated the blade.

The elleth tried to reach her wound to stop the blood she felt seeping from the deep gash, and she fell forward off the dead man as the pain became more intense. Her heart began to race, and sweat started to cover her forehead. The world spun as she fell onto her back and her breath came sharp in her chest.

DeSade's cruel and chilling laughter filled her ears as he appeared above her. "Again, your performance was impressive, indeed. But I do grow bored of such things rather quickly. While I would very much love to stay and witness your painful, torturously drawn out death from this poisoned blade, I regretfully have somewhere I must be." To Ruivoreth's disgust, DeSade crouched at her side and reached out, caressing the side of her face as his eyes grew even darker. "Such a pity. What fun we could have had." He drew away, sweeping from the room and out the back, calling, "I shall leave you to puzzle out what you've been poisoned with! Farewell, little assassin!" And once again, that disturbing laughter filled the room in his wake, echoing in her ears even after he had gone.

With what felt like the last of her strength, Ruivoreth let forth a cry of rage, pulling herself to her knees and slamming her fist upon the floor again and again. She was disgusted with herself: she had failed! In her mind, she deserved every ounce of pain that beginning to flood her body like liquid fire. With her heart beating ever quicker, the blood soaked through her robes with even more. She attempted to make use of her hands; she made to draw her last small knife to cut a strip of fabric from her hem to use as a temporary compress, but her fingers would not grip the hilt properly and it merely slid from her blood slicked hands. Her sight began to darken and sounds became muffled. She became aware of hands laying her on her side and the voices of her companions shouting in her ears.

Before she lost consciousness completely, Ruivoreth managed to relay one last helpful message; she believed she had determined what the blade had been poisoned with, and was able to make out Gelinnas through her blurred vision to tell the healer.

" _Bereth ná Sêw_ …" (Queen of Poisons)

With that news in hand, the three companions gathered their injured mentor and made haste to begin their journey to Thranduil's halls as quickly as the wind would carry them.

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 **Author's Note:** First off, I'd like to thank everyone who Favorited this story, and those of you who reviewed. Reviews are always greatly appreciated! Feedback helps! That said, I wasn't entirely satisfied with this chapter as there is a lot about Ruivoreth's character and backstory I want to get out there without it being too muddled and confusing. I feel that things should come together a little more smoothly in the next chapter. Please forgive any errors as I wanted to get this chapter out while I had the time, as it has been awhile since the last posting. Happy reading!


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